By My Bedside
by LillsBills
Summary: Six months after the war, Draco and Hermione are married at Lucius and Narcissa's behest, hoping the union would bring the Wizarding World together. Filled with guilt, Draco spends his days with Hermione in silence, and his nights with Pansy Parkinson while he broods. Hermione, believes he's having an affair and one morning leaves, back to the home of the friend's who welcome her.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone,**

**This is the first fanfic I've ever written and so I dont have much experience. I would love some criticism, constrictive or otherwise. **

**I also would like to apologize in advance because I dont have a beta and I dont always catch my grammar mistakes.**

**This fic wont be to long, maybe 10-115 chapters. **

**Thank you and enjoy! **

A year after the war, six months after all of the bloodshed and pain, the Wizarding World was left in pieces. It was his father who has the idea. "Join in a marriage to join both sides," his father had said one cold night, "it is a Malfoy's job to fix what we have done here."

Draco could understand, it was his mother and father who sacrificed everything for him, even if what they thought was right was not. Now it was his turn. He sat with his mother and father and went through lists of eligible witches who fought on the other side, pureblood witches.

It was early one morning when Narcissa has slipped a small file onto Lucius's desk. The file of one Hermione Granger. Draco was shocked. Lucius disgusted.

"She's smart," Narcissa said, "and she would be more then willing to help fix our world… She is a Gryffindor, it's in their nature."

Lucius pulled the file off his desk and flipped through the pages considering what he read while Draco sat in silence, his future being written for him.

"Write the girl," Lucius said, resigned, "see if she is willing to hear us out."

That night Draco had slipped into his room and reached into his bedside table. He pulled out a small photograph, a picture of him and his friends before the war huddling by the fire in the Slytherin's Common Room laughing. Most of them were alone now, alone and completely shattered by the war and he had the change to pull them all beck together. He was so enticed by the small moving photo that he didn't hear his farther slip in through the french doors.

"Son," Lucius said breaking Draco from his retrieve, "you need to make sure that this is what you are willing to do. There is no going back. If you heart lays elsewhere I'm sure Theodore Nott would be more than willing to take your place."

Draco slipped the photograph back into his nightstand, "No," he whispered, "I started this war, I was the one who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, I should be the one to do this."

"Just take the night to think on it." Lucius gave Draco a long and thoughtful look before walking out of his room, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

The next morning Draco wrote the letter inviting Hermione Granger to Malfoy Manor. He watched his owl fly from his room's window, glancing down to see his mum and dad watching the owl fly off too.

The owl came back later that evening with a scroll attached its leg:

_Draco_

_I will hear your request. Tomorrow at 6 in the evening. Away from _that _room._

_Regards,_

_Hermione_

He didn't know why but he was relieved and when he told his parents, Narcissa was quick to arrange dinner. The House Elves instructed to be on their best behavior because their new Mistress was coming to visit. And just like that, the Manor had blossomed with excitement.

The dinner was a quiet affair on Hermione and Draco's part, Lucius had elected to do all the talking and Narcissa only occasionally adding what Lucius had for gotten too.

Draco had spent his time watching Granger who had kept her eyes glued to her plate for the most of the dinner, and occasionally, when her eyes would meet his, his heart would pound loudly in his chest at the soft blush on her cheeks.

She was thin, too thin, which wasn't surprising seeing that she had been on the run for most of the year. He worried for her, and he would see that his mother and father, who would deny it if asked, were too. She was to be a Malfoy, and she needed to get better.

They would get married as soon as they could. She would sever ties with her friends and assume her role as Lady Malfoy with the help of Narcissa to help her assimilate into her new role. In turn, she and any child she had because of the union would be looked after. They would have to present a united font, bring the dark and light together.

Draco silently wished for more.

Granger had sat there after Lucius was done talking looking down at her hands.

"I want a week to say goodbye," Granger said in a small, almost child-like voice, "I need a week."

"A week is more than enough to plan a wedding," Narcissa said with sympathy, "Welcome to the family."

Narcissa stood and glided out of the dining room door, Lucius following closely after with only a small bow as his farewell.

"I would like to take a walk in the garden if you don't mind," Granger whispered.

"I'll come with you" Draco said.

They walked out of the Manor together, no less than two feet apart, in compete silence. They eventually sat underneath a large tree with white flowers falling onto the grass.

"It's beautiful out here." Granger had whispered, startling Draco, "I think that maybe I can be happy here one day." After another beat she inhaled, "I know this isn't for love, and that this is nothing short of a business deal, but I will try if you do."

"But why are you doing this?" Draco finally asked, "We don't like each other."

"This isn't for you or me, Harry and the Weasley's and everyone else need everything to settle, they need to know the war is over. We all need to move on." She rushed out, "I cant promise to love you… but I'll try of you do."

Draco's hand slipped in this pocket where the picture was tucked away safely as he thought of his future and the future of his friends. He turned to her and yearned to touch her, to feel her under his skin.

Granger had left, and almost three days later she had Flooed to the foyer, her eyes red and swollen, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"As it turns out I didn't need a week." She said with tears in her eyes, "Im ready."

Narcissa had ushered Granger away, whispering words that Draco couldn't hear.

Draco spent that night in his father's study, sipping Fire Whiskey and staring into the amber in the fireplace.

Everything happened quickly after that night, and four days later, Draco and Hermione were married in a traditional bonding ceremony. Most of what was left of high society was there. Most of the Weasley's had also come, Weasel and Scarhead no where in sight.

Granger— _Hermione_— was a vision in white as she walked down the aisle, escorted by Arthur Weasley. Before he passed her to Draco, he whispered something in her ear, she chocked down a sob and straightened her shoulders before taking a hold of Draco's arm. That was the first time he touched her. He bent forward and gently kissed her cheek, the moisture from her tears sticking to his lips. When she turned away, he darted his lips out to taste her. She was salt, and freedom, and purity.

He wasn't worthy. She was to good, to clean.

Their first dance was more that Draco expected, his new wife had melted into his arms and followed his large sweeping steps as best she could. The wedding night was less than what one would expect. They didn't consulate the marriage, Hermione asked him not too, instead they elected to spend time in the library reading and writing letters of thanks to everyone who had decided to attend the bonding.

Overtime he had fallen in love with her, but he never acted on it, it wouldn't be right too, especially when she looked at him like she did. Like she would love nothing more than to down him in the pond in the garden. He would never tell a soul but when she would fall asleep at night he would lay next to her, and leave early the next morning before she woke.

Eventually, he took his feelings out on Pansy when she had come back into his life. He had seen her last before the final battle and they had offered each other empty comforts, he took from her what he couldn't from Hermione. Soon, the days were for Hermione and his duty to his family, but he spent his nights with his limbs tangled with Pansy's. As intimate as it might have looked, they never had sex, he was a married man after all, they only ever talked, drank, and sometimes cried if the occasion called for it.

It had been three years and none of it had ever changed.


	2. Chapter 2: Draco

**A/N: Hello to those reading, welcome back! I just wanted to add a quick not that I have almost completed the Fic and that I will be posting once or twice a week. Reviews and criticism welcomed! **

Chapter 2: Draco

Another morning for Draco brought the golden glow of the sun. He took a deep breathe, taking in the floral scent of the women asleep next to him.

Pansy.

He wanted to turn away, guilt churning in his gut. He had spent another night here instead of being at home with his wife.

"Good morning," she whispered, scrunching up her nose at the sunlight.

"Good Morning," he whispered back before untangling himself from her.

"You're going back to her," Pansy said bitterly, sitting up. Her hair was sticking up in all direction, and in almost any other circumstance, he would laugh.

Draco froze at her tone. This happened almost every morning now as if the guilt didn't hurt enough; she made it seem like he was using her as if she wasn't using him. As if she didn't spend the entire night crying on his shoulder because of her nightmares.

"She's my wife," Draco said, "I have a duty."

"You and I both know that you don't go back because of your duty," Pansy said, taking a drag from a Muggle cigarette, "you're just too much of a coward to say how you feel. That's noting new, but you have responsibilities to more than just your family, you know?"

Draco stiffened at the ruth of Pansy's words, and with a sneer said, "I have to go."

"Tell me Draco," Pansy called, "Do you think that maybe she could love you if you tried? Maybe try finding comfort between her legs instead of mine."

"We've never slept together." Draco hissed, angry at the accusation, "You know that."

"Do you think that it matters what we have and haven't done?" Pansy said, "All she knows is that you disappear at night and come home in the same cloths as the night before. Suspicious, don't you think?"

And just like that he walked to the green fires of the Floo calling out Malfoy Manor, Pansy's "See you tonight" following behind him. He stalked out of the Drawing Room and into the small dining room, where he found his wife sitting patiently with a cup of tea cooling in front of her, her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"Good morning, Husband," she said cooly, her eyes not leaving the extravagant breakfast laid before her.

"Good morning, Wife," he replied, unable to look at her.

Draco made his way to the seat next to Hermione, the seat to the right of where his father would sit in a few moments. He waited silently, and before he could say anything, his mother and father walked in the dining room with smiles on their faces.

"Good morning, Draco dear," Narcissa said before elegantly taking her seat across from Draco, "And to you as well, Hermione."

"And to you, Narcissa," Hermione smiled before lifting her cup of tea to her lips.

"Draco." Lucius said in stoic acknowledgment, before slightly bowing towards Hermione with a small smile, "Hermione dear, you are looking well this morning."

"The same could be said about you, Lucius," Hermione replied, her lips curling upwards.

It was a strange friendship between Lucius and Hermione, Draco had noticed. When she first married Draco, Lucius wouldn't look her way without sneering, muttering Mudblood under his breath. She took it all in stride and ignored him because it seemed that their plan of uniting society was working. It wasn't until Narcissa has fallen ill one summer with Dragonpox that he had begun to see Hermione in a different light. Hermione spent every waking moment by Narcissa's bedside nursing her back to health, telling Narcissa stories that she would find amusing. It was then that Lucius let his walls fall and he slowly accepted the witch as more than just a political convenience. He had begun to see her as the daughter he dearly wished for.

They began their breakfast in silence, the soft clicking of utensils on porcelain the only sound in the large room. It echoed off the walls which made Draco cringe slightly. It reminded him of the when the Dark Lord would dine in his home; everyone filled with to much fear to speak.

"I assume you two had a pleasant night last night," Narcissa prompted giving Hermione a knowing look.

Draco almost choked on his tea, his eyes widening at the idea of his parents finding out about Pansy.

"Same as every night," Hermione said with a smile that didn't quite reached her eyes, though his parents either didn't notice or chose not too.

Lucius chuckled, "Might we hear the pitter patter of little feet soon?"

Hermione stiffened and flushed, and Draco held his teacup a little tighter.

Neither Draco or Hermione answered. Instead, they busied themselves with finishing breakfast. Narcissa must have taken this as a positive sign because beamed at Lucius who had a dreamy look in his eye.

Lucius and Narcissa left the room quickly after saying their goodbyes to Draco and Hermione, leaving them alone.

"What was so special about last night?" Draco asked as he turned to face his wife.

"We got married four years ago yesterday, Draco," Hermione said, standing up, smoothing out her dress, and placing a kiss on Draco's cheek, "Happy Anniversary." She whispered before smoothly walking away, leaving her half-finished tea behind.

Draco sat in the silence. His hand tracing where Hermione's lips had landed, gooseflesh prickling his skin. He finished his breakfast alone, hey eyes occasionally wandering over to Hermione's abandoned tea cup, the contents now cold to the touch.

He spent the rest of the day in his study, filing paperwork and counting the hours until he could see Pansy again. He needed to talk to her about how he forgot his anniversary, and he needed brood around a bit before coming home the next morning.

As soon as the sun began to set, he got dressed and went over to her as quickly as possible. He curled by her fireplace and watched the flames reduce anything he threw into it to ash. He was there for hours before any found he in the same position she always did; knees were drawn up to his chest and his right arm tightly wrapped around them. His left arm, however, was barred from any clothes that would obstruct the Dark Mark from his sight. He would spend hours staring at it. Sometimes he would try to dig it out of his skin, but it never worked. It would always be there. He's always known that but it disappointed him none-the-less.

He felt someone sit next to him, huddled close and sigh. When his eyes closed, he would see a wild, bushy mane instead of silky locks. He would feel scars and bumps from years of fighting in a war under his fingertips instead of Pansy's smooth, soft baby skin. Black eyes would turn brown, and the world would melt away.

When he was in such a state like he was most nights, she would talk to him about nonsensical things; the clothes she bought that morning, the weather, the color of the drawing room and how she disgusts her it but won't change because it reminded her of her mother. Anything to distract him forms his thoughts. Eventually, he would talk, adding to the conversation about clothes and the weather.

When he would wake in the morning, either on the floor or one of the guest rooms in the house and he would go straight to the shower and rub his skin raw. He would let the guilt wash away, and before the sun would rise, he would rush out of Parkinson Manor straight to what was his and Hermione's bedroom.

Draco would sit there and watch Hermione sleep almost the same way he would watch Pansy. When she would begin to stir, he would disillusion himself and watch her prepare for the day from the corner. He would watch her undress, the beautiful expanse of her skin barred for him, and slip into the shower before putting in her robes and heading down for breakfast.

Sometimes he would catch her looking at what should be his side of the bed with disappointment. It made his heart flutter every time.

She had burrowed into his skin and his heart, and for the life of him, he didn't know how. He figured she had always been there, that he was born with Hermione's name printed on his skin.

Pans had once asked him why he didn't leave her, the Wizarding World had since been repaired, and he could be free from Hermione if he weren't happy. But Draco couldn't leave, he didn't want too. He knew that even if he wasn't, and would never, be the husband she deserved, he was too selfish to let anyone else have her. She was his, even though he didn't show her.

He had slipped into Pans's bed that night waking her up with gentle words and huddling close, not wanting to be alone like he had that morning.

Not wanting to feel like the failure he knew he was.

He loved and cherished Pansy's Friendship, and in another life, he would have married her instead, even if they never loved each other that way. With Hermione he was calm, settled, he wanted to build a life with her, one that he never saw with Pans, one he still hoped would bring love into his life.

And as the night went on, the room was filled with his quiet sobs and mental words until the sun rose, and just like every morning, Draco left to find his ever-patient wife sitting at the table waiting for breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is Chapter 3! Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited, and/or reviewed! I am finishing up the story as we speak and I might even extend it a chapter or two. **

**Enjoy! **

Chapter 3: Hermione

Hermione Granger was many things, The Brightest Witch of Her Age, War Heroine, and Gryffindor to the soul. She was surrounded to loyal friends, and she had a bright future. But Hermione Malfoy? She was someone else entirely. She was a shut-in, only leaving her home, Malfoy Manor, when necessary, she was shy, and the only people she had to call friends anymore were her in-laws and the still-too-cruel portraits that hung on the hallway walls.

Hermione Malfoy spends her days in the library, reading or coming up with hypothetical potions and spells while her husband does paperwork at his desk. They sit together and talk about mundane things when the mood calls for it. But it's never more than that, than the cold pleasantries that never go below the surface to how they are, where their marriage is going, and why Draco is completed to spend his nights with a women who is not his wife.

When Hermione looks back, she can understand why she said yes to this arrangement. She wanted the war over. Harry was broken, so were the Weasley's, and she desperately wanted her world to be at peace.

Their marriage started much like it was now, except he would sleep in the room next to hers. He would talk to her, and casual conversations turned into casual touches and soft smiles. Hermione found herself needing his presents, wanting to spend time with him more that she was required to as his politically motivated wife.

All those ended when Pansy Parkinson came back into their lives. Soon, Draco would spend his nights with her.

Hermione wasn't stupid; she knew that he was having an affair. It shouldn't have bothered her more than it did. This was a political arraignment, but she wanted to try and make it more. She gave up her life, her friends, and her future, to marry him and she wanted more than this facade.

Some nights she would call herself selfish for wanting what she could not have, what her dear husband so obviously did not want to give, but those feelings quickly disappeared when she saw her friends had moved on. She would spend her late morning's clipping artifices and pictures from The Daily Profit that had illustrations of her former friends lives. Ginny and Harry were married, their wedding pictures plastered on the front page. Ron was dating Astoria Greengrass, who distanced herself from her parents after the war. She had clippings for everyone she knew from before and the pages of her scrapbook were filled with the little pieces of their loves she was privy too.

They were moving forward, and she was being left behind. Not that it wasn't also her fault, but the pain still stung.

But they were happy so maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it.

Hermione could still remember the morning she got Draco's letter asking her to meet with him and his family. She had gone with the promise that there was a way to put their world back together. It's safe to say that what they proposed was a shock.

But more importantly, it had made sense.

She agreed, and when she told Harry and Ron about what the meeting had consisted of, they screamed at her, and in the end, they had begged for her not to do it. There had to be another way.

She only took three days knowing that if she stayed any longer, she would never want to leave because of how guilty Ron and Harry made her feel. With a tearful goodbye, she left the Burrow and flooded immediately to Malfoy Manor, where Narcissa comforted her, whispering that all would be well.

Her training had begun that night. She would sit with Narcissa and they would sit and discuss everything from social etiquette to clothing, slowly peeling though the different layers of high society. Lucky for Hermione she was a fast learner.

Her wedding would have been any woman's dream, and as she walked down the aisle, it was almost her too. Her parents had still been Australia, and she decided after seeing them live a happy life with their newborn daughter that they would forever remain the Wilkinses. She had asked Arthur to walk her down the aisle after Harry and Ron had said no. They didn't even show up to her wedding, claiming that they would rather not see her forever bound to the ferret.

Before he handed her to Draco, to her new future, Arthur leaned in close and whispered to her, "You might not be blood, but we love you endlessly… please be safe, and know that we are here for you."

She had asked Draco not to consummate. She was scared, and the idea of losing her virginity to someone she didn't love was foreign to her. He agreed, and for a year they would sit and talk or read instead of other nightly activities.

She had slowly begun to fall in love with him, with the little things he would do with her. He would sit by her, touch the hand and face softly. He was gentle, his voice soothing her very soul. When she would fall asleep in the library, she would wake up in her bed, the smell of clean grass and fresh air staining the sheets beside her.

And when he started to leave her alone during the night to be another woman, her heart broke.

She didn't mutter a word about his affair. Who would she talk too? She had cut ties with her former friends as per the agreement before her wedding, and she only had herself to blame.

Most nights when she was left alone in her bed, she would cry softly, missing her life from before her marriage and the future she could have built. In the morning she would sit at the breakfast table and wait for her husband and his parents pretending the night before didn't happen. She had become quite good at that.

When Lucius had brought up children, Hermione could have dropped dead at the panic that rose in her chest. She didn't want children, not with a man who was in love with someone else. Not when her husband had spent their anniversary in another woman's bed.

Other than that, she thinks her in-laws were aware of the affair their son was having. They had never said it out loud, and they had never eluded to knowing, but their eyes said differently. It was moments like this though, moments where they asked about children and the future when she thought differently.

Hermione spent that night like every night before. She read in the library before shuffling off to her bedroom in the wee hours of the morning. At one point Narcissa had walked in and they spoke for a while. When Narcissa left her, she sat in silence.

Some mornings, after a night of being alone, the hair on the back of her neck stood. It felt like someone was watching her, watching every move she made walking getting ready for the day. No was ever there though. She was alone. Always.

She was 23 and in a loveless marriage. It was the Pureblood way, but it wasn't her way… not until she had agreed to this contract. She had to face this with the stoic pride Narcissa taught her to present.

She dressed like she usually did, in the clothes provided by Narcissa, and went down to the dining room and waited for another day to begin.

She waited for breakfast, fo her husband to walk in after a night away. She then waited in the library, waiting for the sun set so her husband could abandon her once again. She went to bed and closed her eyes, too tiered to wait for the sun to rise.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Heres another chapter. Since this one is on the longer side, I might wait a little more than a two days to post the next one.**

**Comments and critisims is always welcome. **

**Enjoy!**

Draco watched Hermione form the Library doors. He spied Hermione on the couch at the far end of the library. She was still dressed in the robes that Narcissa had instructed her to lean towards. They were stiff and uncomfortable, unlike how she was now, relaxed against the pillows, a tray of tea on the coffee table.

"How are you, Hermione?" He asked, sliding through the door.

"I'm doing well, husband," she replied, "how are you? I hope well."

She was so cold, so indifferent towards him. She didn't care.

Not that he deserved it. He didn't deserve anything. But it still hurt.

"I'm alright," Draco said, returning her tone.

He slid between the bookshelves and started to watch her from between the gaps of the books. She must have felt his eyes on her because she lifted her chin and watched his eyes before letting her eyes fall back to the book in her hands, a soft blush rising in her cheeks.

She patted the spot next to her, inviting Draco to sit. He took the opportunity and eagerly sat beside her. She read to him out loud from Pride and Prejudice, her voice filling the large room. Draco let his head fall back and he listened, and to his surprise, Hermione put her head on his shoulder, signing happy before continuing. He closed his eyes, letting her calm voice lull him, he even dared to play with her hair, twirling her thick curly hair between his fingers, until Hermione stopped abruptly.

Hermione sat up, and Draco immediately mourned the loss. He watched her carefully shut the book and look out the window.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, peering down at her, "Keep going."

"It's sundown," Hermione said, the deep reds and oranges filtering through the windows of the library, "I'll see you at breakfast. Don't forget the Parkinson ball tomorrow night." She finished tightly.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but she had already stood, the moment dead and buried. He sat up to say something but Hermione stoped him by lifting her hand in the air. Draco watched her take in a deep breath, turn on her heel, and walk away, straight out of the room.

And Draco just watched her leave.

He buried his head in his hands and sunk into the couch. He groaned, pulling his hands down his face as he did so.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sun has almost below the horizon, blues and soft yellows filling the room. That's when he saw it. A chunky, awkwardly bound, book hidden on top of several ancient tomes. Draco pulled it down and flipped it open only to have several pictures greet him. He flipped through faster, watching the photos from _The Prophet_ and _Witches Weekly_ move along the pages, most smiling, some with an occasional frown. They were the stories of her friends, their accomplishments, announcements, and the gossip that filled the pages of Wizarding News on a day to day basis.

Anger bubbled in his gut. He shut the book and shoved it back into its spot. He grit his teeth and pulled out his wand blasting a vase from its spot on the far end of the library. He glared in the direction he knew the book was hidden, sneering at the thought of Hermione keeping it.

His logical mind reminded him that Hermione gave up her friends for him. That she left and cut ties to be the poster child for Muggle-borns that could integrate themselves into Pureblood society fully, and without hesitation. In all honesty, this marriage was more to show the Purebloods that a _Mudblood_ could hold a position in their world that is deemed worthy.

And it worked for the most part. She was the perfect Pureblood socialite. She talked, walked, and breathed how an aristocrats way. Though there were still whispered slurs and hurtful words said about Hermione by the older generation, it was his parents that put them into place, using cutting words and silent threats to neutralize them.

To the younger Purebloods, Hermione was their idol, the girl they all looked up to be. Strong, brave, and impassive. Draco wouldn't be surprised if the new generation of Pureblood heiress were mostly Gryffindors.

Draco stormed into the nearest floor and into Parkinson Manor, his anger cooling down into guilt. Moans were coming from the other side of Pansy's bedroom door, but that didn't stop Draco from pushing it open. Through his angry haze, he could see two figures sit up form the bed.

"Get out," a man Draco had never seen said.

"No, you get out," Draco said petulantly.

The man looked like he was going to say something before Pansy huffed, "Its fine Peter," she said, "I'll owl you to pick this up later."

The man, Peter, looked at Pansy before gathering his clothing and stomping out of the room, muttering angrily under hie breath. Draco sat down onto the bed, head in his hands, trying to calm his breathing.

"Draco?" Pansy asked.

He did answer; the world didn't exist past the pain in his chest.

"Draco?" Pansy asked again, this time pushing some hair away from his forehead.

Draco looked up, his eyes red.

"What happened?" Pansy whispered, as she beside him.

"She misses them," He answered back, his voice just as quiet.

"Who does she miss?" Pansy cooed, brushing back more of his hair.

Draco laid down; his body was dangerously close to the edge of the bed. "She misses her friends," He said, "it's my fault."

Pansy scoffed, pulling Draco closer to the center of the bed. She tugged off his shoes and tossed them onto the floor.

"It would only be natural." Pansy said, pulling his legs onto the bed, "She hasn't seen them in four years, it makes sense that she misses them."

Draco crossed his arms and turned to his side, "But she never told me. She could have told me. I could have done something… I could have talked to my mum into letting her talk to them again."

Pansy made herself comfortable next to him, turning to face him; she considered him for a moment.

"Do you tell her things?" she asked, "Like the things you tell me?"

"No." Draco said, "That's what you're here for. She doesn't need more burdens; I'm burden enough."

"One," Pansy said, holding up a finger, "I listen because I want to, not because I have to, check yourself. Two, you aren't a burden." She said holding up a second finger.

Draco turned his body the other way, throwing the quilted duvet over himself. "Good night," he said, pulling into himself before he let himself drift off.

The next morning Draco had walked into Malfoy Manor a little later than usual. The sun was already up, and his presence would have been noticed at breakfast. He walked through the floo only to be greeted by his father, who was nursing a tumbler of whiskey.

"Don't think we haven't noticed your absence, Draco" Lucius said bringing his glass to his lips to take a sip.

"I apologize for missing breakfast, I got caught up in some work," Draco said, pulling his tie loose, his eyes avoiding his father's.

Draco moved to exit the room before his father's voice stopped him, "You and I both know that breakfast was not what I meant." Lucius stood up and walked towards the door passing Draco as he did so, "You have a duty to the path you have chosen, Draco, I had given you a way out, and you didnt take it. Don't make her suffer because regret the decisions you made."

Draco was left in the study studying the door Lucius slammed on his way out. He took a few calming breaths before he too left the study. He walked down the hallways, deciding it was time to find his wife, who he could see was in the garden's with his mother.

Both women stood made their way down the hallways, straight to the back gardens. The roses that lined the flowerbeds were all blooming, their sweet sent being carried by the wind. Draco hid himself behind one of the henges and strained to hear the two women.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa fiddled with the sleeve of her dress before sitting on one of the several stone benches along the garden's walkway.

"I want to talk you about," the blond witch took a breath, "an heir. Lucius and I have talked about it, and we think that you tow should start trying."

Draco's eyes widened and Hermione watched her mother-in-law with shock. Draco swallowed once. Swallowed twice, then pushed himself further into the henge.

"I beg your pardon?" Draco heard Hermione mutter.

"You heard me, Hermione," Narcissa said, "I know that you and Draco aren't on the… best of terms… but you have a duty that you agreed to when you agreed to the marriage."

Hermione stared at Narcissa with fire in her eye, and Draco felt himself shrink a little more at her anger. He watched his wife approach the other witch carefully before stomping soon her foot.

"No!" Hermione snapped, "I will not! Not with him, not _in_ _marriage._ He wants an heir? let him divorce me and marry someone else to fulfill that _duty._"

Draco watched her compose her self, running her hands up and down her dress, "Im sorry for snapping," Hermione whispered, "I'm going to go to my chambers, I'll be ready for the ball by sundown."

Hermione left with Narcissa leaving a few minutes later Draco sat where Narcissa had been earlier.

_Not with him,_ he heard her voice echoing in his head.

He knew it… She hated him. It wouldn't be hard to understand why, but the words stung.

He watched the birds fly fro tree to tree and before he knew it, it was well past lunch.

Draco had quickly readied himself and waited in the parlor for Hermione. He watched her glide down the steps, her hips swaying from side to side, and he offered his arm to her when she reached the fireplace. They appeared to the Parkinson Manor's gates and quickly made their way inside and away from the bitter cold.

He did all that was necessary for him to do. He chatted with others in the elite, and he watched Hermione watch Scarhead, Weaselette, Weasel and Astoria Greengrass from a distance. Occasionally he would maneuver away from Theodore Nott who would talk to Hermione with a look that screamed adoration.

The danced once, holding each other closely. Draco would whisper things in her ear about the other participants and Hermione would chuckle at his antics. When the song was over, he escorted her away from the dance floor, Walking towards Pansy Parkinson. He couldn't stop himself from moving in her direction, dragging his wife along with him. They had to speak to the hostess after all.

And having Hermione away form Nott certainly helped Draco's state of mind.

"Ms. Parkinson," Hermione had said in a chipped tone, "thank you for inviting us to your ball."

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for coming." Pansy said gleefully before turning to Draco, "Can we have this dance Draco?"

Draco felt Hermione still beside him, and before he could speak, Pansy pouted. "One little dance wouldn't hurt now will it?"

Pansy glanced over to Hermione with a curve to her lip. This was a game to her.

Draco watched Hermione from the corner of her eye. Her eyes were hard and cold, so unlike the strong woman, he knew her to be.

"I'm not feeling well, maybe you can entertain him for the night," Hermione said to Pansy, "it wouldn't be much different from any other night now would it?"

Pansy physically jerked back, and Draco watched as her mouth twisted with guilt.

Hermione dropped her arm and pulled herself away from Draco when the music began. She walked over to the ballroom's doors discreetly and disappeared into the other room.

It was Pansy who pulled Draco from his retrieve. She took his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

"Do you think that this is what it would have been like?" Pansy said partway through the dance, "If you and I would have gotten married instead?" Pansy didn't wait for him to answer, "I would like to think so. I think that you would love me in your way, and I would love you in mine. Maybe we wouldn't be in so much pain." She whispered, "I saw him again tonight and want you to make me feel better. Make the hurt go away."

At the end of the song Pansy stepped ways with a beautiful smile on her face, and with a small curtsy, she walked away, a promise twinkling in her eye.

Later in the night, after the party, when Pansy went to Draco drunk off her arse she pulled into the hallway and started stripping off his clothing.

"Pans, stop," he said softly, "this won't help. You know it won't."

She looked up at him, his face blurred by the tears that were threatening to spill over. She sank to the floor and Draco watched as they pulled out a cigarette. She lit it with a Muggle lighter and took in a big drag. Draco sat next to here, and they both watched the painting on the wall across from them, a little girl chasing a dog.

"I'm pretty sure she's in love with you." Pansy said, "She looks at you like she is."

Draco snorted and reached out for Pansy's cigarette.

"You know, I heard that Astoria is getting married," Pansy said, changing the subject.

Draco turned to Pansy in shock. Astoria had been disowned by her parents not long after the war for refusing to marry a man 20 years her senior. Rumor had it that he was the only man who was willing to marry a woman who was so defiant against her Pureblood ways, there were whispers that he had plans to _whip her into shape_.

"Did she go back to them?" Draco asked through gritted teeth.

"No," Pansy said with a smile, "She fell in love with the youngest Weasley boy— Ron— She's so happy, Draco, you should see it."

"How's her… sickness," Draco asked before taking another drag.

"She's better," Pansy said around a puff of smoke, "Weasley dotes on her, and the healers say that it looks like the blood curse is slowing. She might live past 40."

They sat in silence for a little while longer smoking and finishing another cigarette.

"How are you Pans?" Draco asked.

"I'm okay," Pansy replied, "I wish my best friend were happy though." She said with a chuckle, "Maybe you should talk to her… Maybe she loves you."

"Have you talked to him?" Draco said.

Pansy paled, and Draco watched as she choked down as a sob. It was cruel to bring him up, but he wanted to hurt her for once like how she hurt him. Pansy stood up abruptly and stomped her foot.

"That was cruel, and you know it!" Pansy screamed, "He doesn't love me!"

She turned away from Draco and Draco watched her shoulders shake with guilt in his eyes. He stood up slowly and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "it was uncalled for."

"It was," She said with a watery smile, "but I expect nothing less. You hurt others when they hurt you. You run away because you're scared."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, Draco. You do, why else would you come to me instead of going to your wife?"

"You know why."

"No Draco, I don't, because you're just too scared to say you love her, so you take to me to make you feel better." She said, "So do you feel better?" She gathered her dress and started making her way down the hall, "Go home to your wife, Draco… I don't think I can be your excuse anymore. And I won't let you be mine."

Draco pulled himself together and wandered to the floo. His heart was beating faster and faster the closer he got to his bedroom; he had never spent the night with her, not even in the first year of their marriage.

He reached the bedroom door and moved to open it, but the sight before him made his jaw clench in anger. Hermione, his wife, was standing in the middle of their bedroom letting Nott peel her out of her clothes.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hello all. Ive tried expanding the story longer than the 9 chapters I had competed before posting the first chapter but I like the original ending so I'm keeping it as it. **

**It's not a the HEA that you might expect, so just a warning. **

**Thank you for reading and thank you to everyone who reviewed so far. I do appreciate your reviews. **

**Enjoy!**

Hermione after spending the majority of the day in her rooms, drinking tea laced with Calming Draught as she often found herself doing. She took a deep breath and let the Calming Draught she took earlier in the day, and everyday since after her marriage, numb her. Settled her temper and made her personality "acceptable" in the eyes of other Purebloods according to Narcissa. When evening came, she dressed in the purple gown Narcissa insisted she looked stunning in and made her way to the main floo. Her husband stood there.

Draco escorted her to the party and she knew that he put in extra effort to steer her away form Theodore Nott. Everyone knew that he wanted to bed her, though she didn't understand why. Its not like Draco cared about the _marriage_ enough to want to stop her from something she _might_ do.

Sometimes she wondered what that would have been like. To have someone who might actually want her like Nott did.

After a short discussion with Draco and Parkinson, Hermione made her excuse and left. She didn't get far before she felt a strong, warm, body press up against her.

"Can I have you tonight?" The man, Nott, whispered in her ear. He smelled like cedar, warm and masculine, much like she imagined Draco would smell like.

"I'm married," Hermione replied, sliding away from Nott.

"That doesn't seem to stop your dear husband now does it?" He sneered.

Hermione froze. No one should have known. That was their one unspoken rule, he was to be discrete.

Hermione turned to look at his large dark blue eyes, her heart pounded in her chest and a small smile quirked up on her face.

"Are you any good?" Hermione asked, her fingers toying with the second button of Nott's Oxford. The effects of the Calming Draught were already waining, and Hermione felt herself become normal again.

Nott's eyes widened, then what Hermione could only call a predatory smile grew on his face. He leaned down, pressing against her ear, "Yes," he purred, "Very good."

Hermione's blood was on fire, and for the first time in a long time, Hermione was excited for the night to come. She pulled away from Nott, and smiled slyly at him, "Promise?" She said with a quirked up at him.

He laughed, "do you want a wizard's oath?"

Hermione took his hand and pulled him out the door and marched to the apperation point, and took them straight to her bedroom.

Before Hermine could be aware of her surroundings, Nott— _Theodore_— Crashed his lips to hers. She took hold of his shirt and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Hermione didn't know how long they were standing there snogging, but Theodore eventually pulled away for some air. She whispered that she would be back before slipping out of the room, and took a moment to catch her breath in the hall way.

She could do this.

She looked up to find Lucius and Narcissa in the hallway. They both stood tall, chins up, and arrogant, like any pureblood couple should. Just like she was taught to stand.

"I'm not sorry," Hermione said, "not really."

Narcissa gave an un-lady like snort, "I wouldn't be either," she said.

Lucius peered down at her and raised his eyebrow. Hermione dared him to say something, her eyes full of fire now that the Calming Draught had done its job.

Lucius turned to Narcissa and said, "Come not dear, I'm sure the elves have some of that wine you're fond of."

The disappeared down the hallway, and Hermione was alone once again. She slipped back into the room, and she was met with Theodore lounging on her bed.

"Second thoughts?" Theodore asked, suddenly finding his nails interesting.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Nott," Hermione answered.

She pulled him off the bed and lifted herself on her toes to plant another kiss on his lips. She felt his hands work on her dress, slowly working it off of her, pushing her sleeves off her shoulders, letting her dress pool at her feet. She, in return, began to unbutton his shirt.

Theodore paused, looking down at Hermione with his dark blue eyes. "You don't want this." He said.

"I do," Hermione replied, trying to finish unbuttoning his clothes.

"You're a bad liar," He whispered, he brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled before leaning down and pressing a kiss in her forehead, "maybe in another life where you choose me instead of Draco."

Hermione smiled up at him, "Maybe." She agreed.

Neither of them heard the door open, or the gasp that followed.

Theodore stopped his ministrations when they heard someone clear their throat. They looked over to find a furious Draco Malfoy glaring at them.

"What do you think you're doing, mate?" Draco seethed at Theodore, but his eyes never left Hermione who had her jaw set in defiance.

"What does it look like, _mate_?" Theodore asked, stepping between the married couple.

Hermione watched Draco sand there, his anger obvious; his hands balled into fists, and his jaw set. Her belly was set aflame. How. Dare. He.

Hermione put her had on Theodore's shoulder and whispered, "Go Theodore, I'll handle this."

"You sure?" He asked, mimicking Draco's movement by putting his hand on his wand.

"The lady said leave." Draco cut in before Theodore could say anything.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco. She was going to wring his neck and make sure no one would find his body. He cant be mad at her for something that he's done.

"Go Theo," Hermione said, "I can take care of myself."

With a curt nod and mentions of owling in the morning, he used passed Draco, deliberately bumping his shoulder against Draco's.

Hermione watched Draco's chest rise and fall. He was angry, but so was she. She crossed her arms, covering herself from Draco as she was only in her under things.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco said through his grit teeth.

"WIth all the time you've spent with Parkinson, I would assume you knew exactly what I was going to do." Hermione snapped.

"You're married!" Draco said, advancing on Hermione, walking into her personal space.

Hermione scoffed, but did not back down, "You say that as though that actually means something to you."

"Of course it does!" He yelled at her.

"Oh really?" Hermione yelled back, "I haven't fucking noticed, Draco, I don't know if you've noticed a _married man_ doesn't disappear every night to see another women!"

Draco took hold of Hermione's upper arm, and pulled her closer. "You will never see Nott again, understood?"

Hermione's face contorted in disgust, "If you don't let go of me, you will not like what comes next, Draco." Draco's fingers tightened and dug into her upper arm "Draco." Hermione said dangerously, "Let. Me. Go."

Draco dropped her arm like it was on fire. He leaned in close and whispered lowly, "You will not see him again. You'll be lucky if I let you out of this bedroom."

Hermione laughed darkly, startling Draco, "As if you have any say in my life."

"You're my wife!" Draco stomps his foot like a petulant child, "You shouldn't _be_ with anyone else."

"That goes two ways, Draco," Hermione said, "You cant have it both way."

She moved to walk out the door, and Draco stepped in her way. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you." She tried to walk around him again only to have him stop her. Hermione gripped her wand and said "Fine." Her eyes darkened and she set her jaw, "I'll see you around Draco."

With that she apperated to the first place she thought she could be safe.

Hermione walked down the darkened and gloomy streets. She approached a house that was squeezed between the two others. She let her fingers trace along the gates of Grimmauld Place. Memories flooded her; the first time she was here, Buckbeak and Sirius, meeting Teddy Luipn, and the nights she spent here right after the war.

She pushed open the gate, smiling as she did so, and walked up to the door knocking it and laughing as she heard someone stomp down the steps, muffled angry words being said.

The door was ripped open and Harry, granted, a slightly older and scruffy Harry stood in the doorway. "Its the middle of the night, who do you think you are knocking at this—" he stopped talking at the sight of Hermione. She smiled up at him and then found herself wrapped in his arms "Oh Merlin! Hermione! What are you doing here? Why are you naked" He pulled away, holding her by her shoulders, looking down at her half naked form.

"Hullo Harry," Hermione said, "I want to know if I can sleep in the spare bedroom."

"Of course!" Harry said, "The room is yours… but why are you naked? Why are you here? Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"Im okay," Hermione said wrapping her arms around herself, the cold air prickling her skin, "The naked story on the other hand is a long one… Now its cold, and I'm naked, so… can I come in?"

Harry jumped aside and pulled Hermione in the door excitedly. He grabbed a blanket from the couch and draped it across her shoulders. They sat on the couch by the fire.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"She's at the Burrow tonight," Harry said, "She's helping Astoria with the wedding and apparently that means she has to sleep there." He finished rolling his eyes.

Hermione laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, "I've missed so much of your lives." Hermione said.

"We've missed so much of your's." Harry whispered, "Hermione, why are you here."

Hermione looked up to Harry, his green eyes burrowing into hers. "Harry," she said taking in a deep breath, "I need your help filing for a divorce."

Harry slipped his hand in hers, squeezing it lightly before nodding, "All that matters is that you're home." Harry said, not knowing what else to say.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello all! I have a new chapter for you all!**

**To the guest who asked why Hermione had to cut ties with everyone, let me answer that for you (looking back I didn't explain it as well as I thought)**

**The marriage between Draco and Hermione was not really for those who fought on the side of the light or those who don't care about blood purity. The marriage was for the purists. Hermione is the example that if you take a 'mudblood' and remove her form her ties in the muggle world, they can become someone respectable in their eyes. Harry, Ron, and everyone else Hermione associated herself with weren't seen as worthy so if she still had ties to them the marriage wouldn't have the effect they wanted. **

**Comments and Criticism always welcome!**

**Enjoy!**

Draco stared at where is wife had just apperated from. His shock had overridden his anger and he was taken aback by her sudden disappearance. The wards shifted, sending shivers down Draco's spine.

He pulled himself together and walked out of the room to his father's study. He found his mother and father sitting by the fireplace, each with a glass of Fire Whiskey.

"Hermione left," he said, his anger softening though his fingernails still dug into the palms, "you're daughter-in-law cheated and then left. I'm going to go and bring her home."

"Let her be, Draco," Narcissa said, interrupting his train of thought, "you've done enough."

Narcissa gave Lucius a pointed look and walked out of the study, leaving Draco alone with his father.

"Have a seat, Draco," Lucius said.

Draco looked at Lucius with wide eyes, "No, I have to find her, I need to talk to her."

"I think you've done enough." Lucius sneered, ignoring Draco's growing distress, "you've done this to yourself. You should have thought about it before you stuck your cock into a women who is not your wife."

Draco sobered, the anger had turned into panic and guilt, unsettling him further, "I'm not having an affair."

Lucius snorted, uncrossing then re-crossing his legs. "And what exactly are these nightly disappearances and early morning reappearances?"

Draco crossed his arms and looked away. Lucius sighed and took a sip of his whiskey. He seems to savor it, using this time to gather his thoughts.

"Son," Lucius began, "Do you not… find you wife pleasing?"

"Ex-excuse me?" Draco stuttered.

Lucius looked away uncomfortably, muttering "you heard me" under his breath.

Draco crossed the room and sat across from his father. He reached over and poured himself a generous glass of amber liquid. He put the bottle back and relaxed back into his seat, drinking his whiskey in three large swallows.

"Im in love with her." Draco whispered.

"Pardon?" Lucius said, pouring himself another glass of whisky. He was going to need it.

"Im in love with her, and I don't deserve it." Draco poured himself another glass of Whiskey, throwing it back like he did with the glass previous.

"And why haven't you told her?" Lucius asked after a long sip.

"After everything I've done to her?" Draco said though clenched teeth, "I bullied her, she was tortured in our home. You and I fought for the mad man who wanted her dead!" Draco took a breath and stood, pacing in front of his father, " We basically forced her to marry me and now she's stuck. How can she love me after all of that? How can anyone! So I go to Pansy and with here I can find some peace, some kind of understanding."

Unbidden and unwelcome tears spilled over his cheeks. Lucius's eyes also reddening with emotion.

"You may not realize it, Draco," Lucius said, "But that is an affair."

"I never slept with, Pansy!" Draco thundered, stopping his pacing to glare down at his father.

"An affair isn't always physical, Draco." Lucius said, his eyes darkening with every word, "you are having an affair, whats worse is that you dont even realize it."

Draco looked away. Taking deep calming breaths, letting his fathers words wash over him.

"We all make mistakes," Lucius said, "it matters how to rectify them. Draco," He whispered, getting Draco's attention, "I'm sorry for all the pain I have caused but please… Let he be… She needs time. We've done enough damage."

Draco looked at his father with betrayal in his eyes. He marched out of the study, straight out the Manor's main doors. He apperated to Diagon Alley, it was quiet and most of the stores were closed, but he searched for her anyway. He didn't know where to look first, and he realized that he didn't really know much about her past the Manor doors. He went to the Weasley's hovel, only to find that all its occupants were asleep. He didnt know where Potter lived, and so he spent time sitting on a bench a little aways from the Hovel.

Eventually, the sun had begun to rise, and Draco retuned to Malfoy Manor. He walked into the dining room to find his mother there, his father and Hermione no where in site.

"I was wondering when you'd be back," she said, delicately sipping her tea, "I take it you didn't find her then?"

"No." Draco said, "Mum… what am I going to do?"

"Like I said, let her be." Narcissa waved her hand in the air effectively dismissing Draco.

He wandered back to the bedroom and stared at Hermione's dress, still pooled on the floor. He picked it up and set it on the bed before crawling under the sheets, watching the sun fully rise into the sky.

He wondered if this aching in his chest was what Hermione felt every night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello all! Thank you all so much for reviewing, following, and favoriting! I am pleased to say that as of this morning I have 100 followers for this story and I couldn't be more excited! Thank you all so much for following me along on this journey! **

**To hvsllbbygrl, I have figured out a way to end the fic on a more hopeful know than before so hopefully its just as satisfactory to all of you as it is for me!**

**I always finish fics before I post the first chapter and then I go in for minor edits if needed and sometimes there is room to expand. **

**As always, enjoy!**

Chapter 7:

The morning came and it took a moment before she realized where she was. The third bedroom in Grimauld Place. She quickly got dressed in some of Ginny's old clothes Harry set aside for her and walked down to the kitchen where Harry was preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said from the last step.

"Morning," He said, not turning away form the stove, "Have a seat, breakfast will be ready in a minute."

Hermione sat at the counter and watched Harry work. He cooked like he's done it a hundred times, and she guessed that he had considering how long she had been gone.

He plated eggs and set them in front of Hermione and went to prepare is own before sitting across from her.

"So…" Harry began, "Do you want to talk about why you're here?"

Hermione looked up and Harry between her lashes, "He— um— he's been having an affair with Pansy Parkinson for the past three years, and I don't want to live that way anymore."

Harry looked up to Hermione in shock. He swallowed once. Then twice. Then he leaned back in his chair.

"Okay." He said, "Okay. Are you okay?"

Hermione smiled at Harry, "Im fine now," Hermione said, "I cant say I've felt like myself for the last few years, but I think I'll get there." She paused for a moment, a bitter laugh escaping her,"Pathetic isn't it."

Harry didn't say anything else and they spent the rest of their breakfast in silence after he mentioned that the paperwork for the divorce was in the library for her.

Hermione washed the dishes, then retired to the small library hidden in the house. She read the paperwork and signed the paperwork not wanting to drag it out any longer. It was just past noon when she sent off the owl. As she watched the bird fly the floo roared and a very loud Ron Weasley stumbled into the home followed by a heavily pregnant Ginny and Astoria who wore a bright pink jumper with a large _A_ on the front.

"Harry!" Ron called, "Are you ready for lunch?" Hermione stood and peaked into the adjoining room. Ron had his hands on his hips, looking up the stairs with determination. "Come one, mate, I'm hungry! "

"You're always hungry, Ron" Ginny and Astoria said at the same time as they made themselves comfortable in the kitchen.

It was Ginny who first saw Hermione watching from the other room. She gasped and stood up, blinking several times before leaning over the countertop.

"Hermione?" She whispered, her hands curled around the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white.

Hermione stepped out into the kitchen fully, Ron turned and met Hermione's eyes, he stuttered for a moment and Hermione gave a little laugh. The Weasleys launched themselves at her, effectively engulfing her into a hug which was difficult to accomplish and Ginny's part, her stolen stomach in the way.

"Hi Ginny," She barely managed out, "Hullo Ron."

Ginny and Ron fired off questions about how she was and why she was here faster than she could answer them. Harry made it downstairs and Ginny immediately released Hermione and walked up to him and pinched his arm playfully.

"Why didn't you tell us she was here?" She asked, her arms crossed and her foot tapping on the wooden floor.

Harry rubbed his arm with a slight pout and smiled shyly, "You know now though, right?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, and Ron just ignored the conversation, focusing on Hermione. He eventually released her and pulled Astoria, who had been watching silently on the other side of the room, towards Hermione and he straightened his back.

"'Mione," Ron said, "This is Astoria, Tori, she's…" Ron stopped, his face flushed and a goofy smile on his face, "She's my fiancé."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Astoria said with a chuckle, sticking out her hand which Hermione grasped gently, "they talk a lot about you."

"All good things I hope," Hermione said nervously shaking Astoria's hand.

"The best things," Astoria answered with a bright smile.

The group of five sat at the counter, electing to order in food instead while they caught up.

Astoria looked at Hermione with a curious look before gathering up the courage to speak.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

The room fell silent and Ron and Ginny leaned in closer to hear what was being said.

"It just wasn't working between us anymore," Hermione said, "It… just wouldn't work. To much history, I think"

Ginny and Ron seemed to take that as a valid answer, Astoria, not so much, but she didn't say anything until after dinner when Harry, Ginny, and Ron were having a heated debate about quidditch. Astoria slid onto the couch, next to Hermione, her hands tightly clamped in her lap.

"How bad was it?" Astoria asked.

"An affair," Hermione said, "He's had one for the last three years, and I almost had one last night…"

Astoria nodded and then looked right into Hermione's eyes and sighed, "Calming Draught in tea?"

Hermione sat up straight, "How did you know?" she whispered.

"Its not uncommon," Astoria said sadly, "it muddles the brain, keeps you _tame._" Astoria spat the last word. "It's lies to you, I've always hated it. It makes you live a false life."

Hermione nodded, "It really is something isn't it?"

"What are you going to do?" Astoria asked, effectively changing the topic.

"I'm getting a divorce, I sent in the paperwork just before you got here," Hermione said, her hands balled up on the table and anger flared in her chest, "I want my life back."

Astoria took Hermione's hands in an attempt to calm her, and released a long breathe. "I'm sorry."

Hermione looked down at their hands and breathes, "Don't be. I'm not."

Hermione and Astoria had tea outside while they watched Ron hovering the air making large sweeping motions with his arms.

A small owl landed on the table. Hermione stocker it feathers before removing the letter addressed to her in Lucius's neat, dramatic, writing.

"What's that?" Astoria asked.

"The Malfoys." Hermione said, she ran her finger over the wax seal before slipping her it under it and breaking it.

It read;

_Hermione, _

_We hope all is well and that you found yourself somewhere safe to say. Narcissa and I wish to ensure that you know we understand. Please don't hesitate to approach us if you ever need anything. _

_Best of luck,_

_Lucius and Narcissa_

_P.S. It's been an honor calling you our Daughter-in-law. We wish things were different _

_P.S.S. Narcissa says that you should keep everything that we purchased for you. She knows you'll refuse, but she'll give them to you anyway _

Hermione smiled and handed the letter to Astoria who snorted back a laugh before handing it back. Hermione slipped the letter into its envelope and tucked it away into her jacket, making a note that she would have to go back to the Manor to pick up her belongings.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all! This is the second to last chapter *Shrieks***

**I have to be honest and say I don't know what the next fic will be... Im playing around with different ideas thus far... Anyone know a good place to find prompts? **

**Thank you, and as always, enjoy! **

Draco spent sometime moping in the for a few weeks. Between Hermione leaving and his parents only speaking to him when they absolutely had too. Pansy spent time over more times than not. She would sleep in the guest room and make herself scarce around the manor, but she would check in on Draco every now and then to make sure he was okay.

It had been two months since Hermione had left. There was no word of it in _The Prophet, Witches Weekly,_ or any of the other tabloids that littered the news stands.

He had asked his parents how his wife was, knowing that they knew something, but they said nothing.

One morning, when Draco was headed to the library, Narcissa stopped him in the hallway when he was on his way to the study and muttered, "Behave," to him before gliding down the hall.

Draco watched her mother before turning once someone cleared their throat. There, in the middle of his hallway, Hermione stood in a bright yellow dress. Draco stared at her for a minute before he came to his senses, shaking away the shock. She was back. She was actually standing here and she was back.

"Hello, Draco," She said in an even tone.

"Hi," Draco breathed out, "How are you?"

"I'm… better," Hermione replied, standing her ground, "Yourself."

"Better," he said, "much, much better now."

Hermione walked towards him, fidgeting with her fingers, and stopped before she got to close.

"I'm here to pick up my stuff…" Hermione whispered, "I left all my things here."

"Oh." Draco stood there watching her in shock. He swallowed, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. He took a step closer, the soft smell of her shampoo filling the space between them. "You're not coming back?"

Hermione dug her teeth into her bottom lip. She looked to be considering something, her emotions playing in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something when Pansy ran into the hallway.

"Draco!" Pansy called, "I could't find you had me worried si— Oh." She stopped at the sight of Hermione, her eyes wide. She turned and walked back the way she came. "I'll be in the room."

Hermione's eyes grew cold and she distanced herself from Draco. "The room." Hermione said, "Our bedroom?"

"Yes." Draco whispered, reaching out to her, "But I can expla—"

"I want a divorce," Hermione interrupted, her eyes wide with shock with what she just said.

Draco stopped. He was sure the world stopped. It hurt to breath, and the walls were simultaneously spinning and falling around him.

He looked down at Hermione. Her eyes were wide, almost like she wasn't expecting the words either, but she said nothing else.

"Is that—" Draco stopped, his voice tight, "— Is that what you want?"

Hermione considered his words. He hoped, she would say no. He prayed to whatever gods were listening she would say she was kidding, that she wanted to move back in and that they could start over together.

"Yes."

Draco could have sworn something broke inside of him. He opened his mouth, but only a whimper escaped.

"Please don't say that," Draco pleaded, "Don't say that."

"What else should I say, Draco?" Hermione asked angrily, walking closer to him, "That I want to stay? That I want to come back and pick up where we left off?"

"Yes," Draco said in an almost child like voice.

"No, Draco," Hermione said, "That's not going to happen. It can't happen, we weren't _healthy_. Expect the papers later this week."

"We can try," Draco said, his chest constricting, "Please?"

Hermione's eyes burrowed into his, "I asked you to come into this marriage trying to make it work. You didn't do that, and this is where we are now. Goodbye, Draco."

Hermione walked passes him, towards the library. Draco hoped she turned back to look at him. Look how broken and crushed he was. But she didn't. She walked with her back straight and chin up, just like a proper Malfoy wife would.

Even when Hermione had disappeared through the library doors, Draco stood there. He didn't know how much time passed before Pansy walked back into the hallway, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Im sorry, Draco," Pansy whispered, "Is there anything I can do?"

Draco's eyes eventually found her, tears threatening to spill over. "Go home, Pansy," He said, his voice cracking, "don't come back."

She looked taken aback but nodded, walking back into the room, a crack of apperation followed shortly there after. Draco wandered back into the room and crawled under the blankets, Hermione's old pillow still held the sent of her subtle shampoo. He laid there until the sun rose, wondering if this is what it felt like when she would wait for him at night.

The next morning, a large Ministry Owl had delivered a thick yellow folder to Draco. He didn't have to open it to know what it was.

He ripped open the envelope and flipped to the last page. Hermione's signature was on one of the dotted lines. Draco let his finger trace over her strokes.

She actually signed it. This is what she wanted. Maybe, just once, he could be unselfish and give her this.

Draco stared at the black ink for a long time, only looking up when he felt eyes on him. His mother was standing at his desk. She pushed his inkwell towards him before picking out a quill and laying it down by his right hand.

"We'll be in the next room, Draco," Narcissa said, "Just… we're here for you…"

Draco was already looking down at the paperwork when he heard his mother leave. He signed the document with a flourish after staring at Hermione's signature for a few more minutes.

He leaned back, setting his quill down, and watched the document magically fade away to the ministry to be processed.

He penned a short letter after. He sealed it in an envelope and sent it off.

He took a deep breath before he stood and walked into the next room, where his mother and father were waiting with a glass of Whiskey.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello all! This is the last chapter for By My Bedside and I want to thank everyone who had read and reviewed, no matter what you had to say! A special shout out to hvnsllbbgrl, Tajinprincess, and vampgirliegirl for commenting throughout, thank you for your support.**

**Im trying to figure out my next fic... it's Dramione with Hansy as a side pair, but I'm still working on it. **

**Enjoy!**

Spring had officially began, and Hermione couldn't be happier. She had spent the previous few days with the Weasley Clan at the Burrow, catching up and re-aquatinting herself with those she loved. Most of the Weasley's never her bone crushing hugs, welcoming her back. Molly had fussed over her, and never her four hand knitted sweaters that she had apparently saved for when she returned.

Upon getting back to Grimmauld Pace with Ginny and Harry, Ron and Astoria electing to stay at the Burrow, two owls were waiting for her. The first was a large ministry owl, and the other a smaller Malfoy owl.

She opened the ministry letter first, it was the notification that her divorce was finalized. Hermione set the letter down with a smile growing on her face.

She was free and it felt good.

No more pretending to be happy. No more pretending to be nice to those who say her as below them. No more pretending to not miss her life. She could just _be_.

And it felt fucking great.

She looked at the letter from the Malfoy owl a moment later. She tucked it away and decided to look at it later.

She left the library and joined Harry in the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat and listened to him recollecting his favorite cases as Auror.

As days turned into weeks, the news outlets slowly began to catch wind of the Malfoy divorce they milked it for all it was worth. Grimmauld Place was bombarded with owls, some supportive, and some, not so much. She picked up her belongings from Malfoy Manor, Draco no where in sight.

She couldn't say she was surprised.

The last thing she picked up was her scrapbook which had looked more worn than she remembered. She carefully it away and headed out, leaving Malfoy Manor for the second time, walking out with purpose.

Hours later, she put the Malfoy letter in the pages, it simply read;

_Thank you for everything, and I'm sorry for everything. _

_Maybe in another life, we'll see each other again. _

In Draco's neat writing. She would find herself tracing the words some nights when she thought about the what ifs. She thought about writing him, but that's as far as she got.

It took months for the media circus to fie down. Lucius and Narcissa had commented often on how event though the marriage was dissolved, they were still in contact with Hermione, which want a lie. She would meet with her former in-laws often, they would sit and talk at a Tea House in Diagon Alley.

Hermione never saw Draco though.

She would ask Narcissa and Lucius about him, but they would always move around the question, changing the subject immediately.

After a few months, Hermione simply stopped asking, assuming he had moved on, and honestly, she was beginning to, too.

It was Headmistress Mcgonagall had offered her her first job since she left the position of Lady Malfoy. Apparently Hogwarts was in need of a Transfiguration Professor since the last three didn't meet the Head Mistresses standard.

Its safe to say that Hermione agreed after little thought. And so she spent most of her time at Hogwarts, visiting Harry, Ginny, and their baby son James when she could. She also saw Ron and Astoria just as often, and it seemed that they were taking married life well. The other Weasley's would write to her often, asking when if she would be at the Weasley's Sunday Brunch… She rarely missed it.

She and Astoria, to everyone's surprise and Ron's delight, had become as thick as thieves. They told each other everything and were more like sisters than friends by the time the one year anniversary of Hermione's divorce came around.

Two years had passed since she had seen Draco next at Hogsmeade when she was supervising a trip. She followed him into the new bookstore that branched off of Brogin and Blotts the year previous, attesting to stay hidden. She watched him for a while, like how he used to watch her, only to find his light blue eyes watching her back. He looked almost the same, two years haven't changed him much, but dark circles made it look like he was bruised and his cheeks were hollow, making his face more angular than she was used to.

He walked towards her elegantly, like a predator stalking prey and she stood there, frozen in her spot.

"You look well… Granger," he whispered horsely to her.

"You look well too, Draco." Hermione whispered back, her heart pounding in her chest, "How have you been since...?"

Draco gave a one shoulder shrug, turning to the bookshelf to this right, aimlessly searching through the books. "I've been okay." He replied running his fingers and down the spine of one volume _Hogwarts: A History,_ refusing to meet Hermione's eyes_._ "How are you?"

"Im okay," she said putting her hand on Draco's to stop his hand, her eye spied a golden band rested on his left ring finger, it was so ordinary and simple but pain twisted in her chest. He married Parkinson so soon? "Draco, why are you here?" she asked, her voice tight, pulling away from him as if he burned her.

He hesitated, before he swallowed and squared his shoulders. "I wanted to see how you are… It's been a long time…"

"It has," Hermione said, her defenses up, "but that doesn't answer my question." He didn't reply. Hermione huffed and crossed her arms, "How's Pansy?"

Draco stilled, "She's fine… She got married to a muggle last spring. They're expecting a daughter in a two months."

"Oh," Hermione said, "I thought you two were going to get married."

Draco looked at her incredulously, "What the blood hell gave you that idea?" He said louder than he should have. The people around them began to turn and look for where the noise came from, whispering when realizing who was talking.

Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him into the storage room, her eyes taking a moment to adjust. "Do you have to be so loud?" She whisper-shouted at him, shutting the door.

"When you have stupid ideas like that? Yes!" He said, throwing his arms up into the air, his knuckles grazing the wooden ceiling.

"Then who did you marry?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"No one!" He said, crossing his arms, "Why do you think that I'm married?"

Hermione huffed and pulled his left arm away from his chest, holding his hand up to his face.

"Oh," He said.

"Yeah. 'Oh'," She mocked, "And considering what you two were doing when we were married, I would think you would jump at the opportunity."

Draco puffed out his chest, "I never slept with her… I know I still had an emotional… _affair_… but it wasn't anything more."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, he looked sincere about it. But that doesn't mean the past didn't sting, that it still didn't _hurt_.

"Then tell me," Draco sneered, changing the topic to hide his discomfort, "how's my mate, _Theo_?"

Hermione gave a smile, "he's fine," she whispered, "he was a good friend when I needed one..."

"Friend?" He scoffed, "Right."

"Yes, Draco, friend." Hermione said kindly, "Nothing more. It never was."

"But I saw you," Draco said petulantly.

"Half the story." Hermione said, her jaw set, "We never had sex, he didn't let it go that far… Im glad he didn't."

The two fell into an awkward silence, neither willing to speak first.

Draco bit his lip, and took deep and even breaths. Ironically, he was the one out of the pair to break the silence, "it's ours... from six years ago." He said twisting his wedding ring, he drew his eyes away from Hermione's, electing to stare at the wooden wall beside her instead.

"Oh," Hermione said. Draco's eyes met Hermione's and his lips curled into a smile before falling, "why?"

Draco averted his eyes again, his cheeks reddened. "I didn't like how we ended... I didn't like a lot of things in the last three of our marriage..."

"Oh." Hermione said.

"Wanted to ask you if you wanted to start over... maybe as friends?" He continued on.

"Oh—" she said for the third time.

Draco huffed, crossing his arms and looking down at her with narrowed eyes. "Is that all you can say? 'Oh'?"

Hermione blinked up at him and attempted to gather her thoughts. Her mouth was dry and her palms sweaty, "I'm just..." Hermione trailed off, blinking up at Draco, trying to put words to her feelings, "Shocked and confused seem to fit."

"Well then?" He asked, his arrogance firmly in place, "do you want to get coffee or tea? Maybe today."

"I don't think so, Draco." Hermione said. His mask fell, replaced by hurt, "I'm much to busy today," Hermione continued on not even stopping to understand the change in his eyes. "Then next Hogsmeade trip is in a month... maybe then?"

Hermione saw Draco's eyes light up, a large grin spread across his face. "Next month it is then."

"We still have a lot to talk about anyway," Hermione said, "I think its best to start from there."

Draco nodded and moved to the storage room door. Hermione's cheeks were pink and a stupid grin still stretched across Draco's face. When he opened the door, he and Hermione were greeted by several people glancing at the pair in interest.

They awkwardly parted, saying quiet goodbyes. Draco slipped something into her hand, before he stepped away, still smiling.

One of Hermione's seventh year students gave an obvious thumbs up and fake cheered. Another waggled their eyebrows and Hermione roller her eyes, the children around her laughing at her obvious annoyance. Draco chuckled and waved one more time before walking out the shop, the little bell signaling his departure.

"Go away," Mcgonagall, who came out of no where, said to her students. Mcgonagall glided over to Hermione and peered down at her. "What was that?" She asked.

"I have a friend date next month." Hermione replied, nose in the air, her cheeks still slightly pink. She eventually looked down at her hand. It was Draco's wedding ring, glinting familiarly up at her.

"A _friend_ date." The Headmistress repeated, unfamiliar with the term, looking down at the same ring.

"Yes."

Mcgonagall hummed before walking way, "You know you'll have to tell me, and write Astoria, about this… _friend_… date." She said, a smile curling the ends of her lips. A quiet, "I have to write Narcissa," reached Hermione's ears but before she could comment, the Head Mistress was gone.

Hermione stared down at the ring, it was heavy in her hand, from a life so foreign to her now. She slid it on her thumb, her other fingers to small, before straightening out her cloths and walking out, already thinking about the month to come.

End.


End file.
